The door (Five nights at Freddy's fanfic)
by Spotted Thanator
Summary: The splintered and cracked wood sinking into the sides of my hands. I can smell my blood, feel it running down my arms. I know it's no use. But I just want him back, I need him back. I fall to the floor, sobbing against the wooden door. The door that will never open again. That tears me and him apart. The door that shouldn't exist. That tears the fox from his Vixen.
1. Why?-prologue

p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: Georgia; text-align: left;"span style="font-size: 18pt;"I stand there. Leaning against the door. Why? Why did he have to leave?! I begin to cry, the sobs racking my small weak human frame. I scream at the door, pounding my fist against it. The splintered and cracked wood sinking into the sides of my hands. I can smell my blood, feel it running down my arms. I know it's no use. But I just want him back, I need him back. I fall to the floor, sobbing against the wooden door. The door that will never open again. That tears me and him apart. The door that shouldn't exist. That tears the Fox from his vixen./span/p 


	2. Mike's death

**AN-FOXYS POV FOR FIRST CHAPTER THEN ALTERNATING BETWEEN HIM N OC. Happens 12 months before the closure.**

I'm sat there. Behind the curtain. waiting for my moment. It can't be long now.

My hook twitches. I try to frown but can't all I can do is grimace and bite. that's what I'm good at, that's all I'm good at anymore.

I've been 'out of order' for the past 21 years. Oh joy. I miss it not the songs, or the children. But the freedom to see sunlight, as well as people. but I blew it, I messed up.

Hmp. The bite of '87. What was I thinking!? It was that brat! That tubby little landlubber! It was his fault! If he hadn't been poking and kicking and, and mocking, then he wouldn't be where he is now. In a hospital, incapable of ANYTHING!

I stop. Take a breath and move out to the door. Before I can sprint down he checks the camera. How do I know? A pirate knows when they're being watched.

I start to think about what I feel over the to popular belief, I do regret it. Not harming the kid, but dooming our freedom. making them 'unsafe'.

Ever since then there's been night security. They don't last long. Either we get to them or they leave.

But we are capable of protecting ourselves. I just don't understand it.

There doesn't seem to be any logic in their thinking.

We don't need protecting. We don't need babysitters. We don't need a prison or a guard. We don't need Mike Schmidt. His time is up. His has ran out. He isn't making it out alive.

**AN-the last sentence is growled. we all know what happens to poor mike now. more to come soon.**


	3. Therapy

AN- this chapter contains, mention of bullying, cutting, depression and therapy. If you are sensitive to these things please read at your best judgement.

My name's Emilia Vixen. Yeah, weird name, I know. I'm 18 years old, and I am British. My family and I moved to America 2 years ago. It started off great, I met new people, made friends and had a family. A hell of a lot can change in a few months.

My so called 'friends' started to turn on me. They began to bully me and call me a freak. When I fought back. They beat me up. My family tried to help, but nothing was done to stop it.

I became depressed. All people ever seemed to do was bully me, pick on me, degrade me, shun me. I got lonelier and lonelier. Pretty soon I was completely isolated from everyone. Then the accident happened.

My mum, dad and younger brother were coming back from getting the shopping. I kept waiting for them to get home. I was sick of being lonely. They never did. There was a road accident, none of them made it out alive. I saw it on the news, hoping to everything I could that they were just held up. I must've fallen asleep, cause the next morning I woke up to a knock at my door. I slowly got up to answer it. As soon as it was opened, I knew what was coming. Stood in the porch was a cop.

"Are you Miss Emilia Vixen?" He asked. I could only nod. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that your family were killed in a car accident last night." I tuned out, knowing what he was telling me. I shut the door as he went to his car. I ran upstairs, and cried for hours into my pillow.

When I went back to school the next day, they just kept going. They called me a freak, a weirdo, an orphan. I dropped out. I couldn't take it. It wasn't long before I started cutting.

I went to therapy a week later, my forearms completely wrapped in blood soaked bandages. The sessions helped me. I overcame my depression, as well as coming to terms with my grief. I moved to the next town over. Enrolled into a new college. I still get called names, but I can handle it now. I'm still painfully lonely. I just keep hoping the right people will come along.

You're probably wondering why I get called names. There's a few reasons. People don't seem to like my accent. They also seem to be jealous of my bright blue eyes and my body shape. That's mainly girls. But they all can't stand my hair. I don't think its because I'm ginger/redhead (even though I am.). I think it's because my hair goes, orangeyred, black then white. It's like the tail of a red fox. It reaches to my hips and has some soft waves in it. I don't understand why people get bullied over their looks. At the end of the day, why should they live their lives differently for a bunch of judgemental bitchy people. My therapy helped me see that.

**AN- jumpy timelines, i know. It is going to even out in the next chapter.**


	4. The waitress

**AN- this happens a week before Mike's death and 2 years after the last chapter.**

Im sat in the middle of my living room, surrounded by the job pages from local newspapers. A notepad and pen lie next to me, along with my phone. I pick up the notepad again and check if there are any jobs that I haven't been rejected from. Just one at the bottom.

"Waiter/waitress wanted at Freddy Fazbears pizzeria. $200 a week, 3-11pm, 6 days a week. No previous experience is required. Freddy Fazbears pizza isn't liable for any damages to property or person (incl. dismemberment or death)."

Dismemberment or death, ohhhkay. How about nope. But then again the pay is good and the hours are perfect for me. Besides I need the money to pay my bills. Ugghh. Fine, fine. You win.

I grab my phone dial the number and wait for it to pick up.

"Hello, Freddy Fazbears pizzeria, how may I help you?"

"I would like to apply for your job opening."

"What's your name?"

"Emilia Vixen." I continue chatting to the receptionist, sorting out all my details. But once that's been done, I get greeted with a strange request.

"Okay, Miss Vixen we would like you to drop down for an interview at 2pm today, is that okay?" I'm flabbergasted, this has never happened to me before. I can only say one thing.

"Yup."

"Great, we'll see you then." The phone goes dead. Wait, did I just get asked for an interview, the same day as applying? This has never happened before. It's a little worrying, that ad is a week old. Why has no one applied? Ah well, guess I'll find out soon enough.

2pm, Friday 5th March, 2008.(*)

Well, didn't expect it to look this outdated and dilapidated, but oh well. I open the glass fronted door and upon entering, I notice the screaming kids, messy tables and the sticky linoleum floor. I make my around the children towards the desk, when I notice an animatronic band. There's a bear with a top hat, a purple rabbit, and a yellow chicken with a bib that says 'let's eat'. How about no? They seem to stop, and their eyes seem to follow me around the room. I shiver, okay, maybe I should've taken the warning a little more seriously.

I reach the desk and am greeted to the person who answered the phone earlier. She has brown hair and brown eyes and is fairly plain. I can't tell how tall she is since she's sat down.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Emilia, I applied for the job." I hear a slight creaking from behind me. I go to turn my head but her hand on my arm stops me. I look at her.

"Don't. You'll only make your job harder." She whispers, her voice brimming with anxiety. I nod, going along with it. Her small smile settles me a little.

"I'm Hannah. You won't be seeing a lot of me I'm afraid. I work until 5 when we close, and the cleaners tidy up. You'll be helping them as a waitress. Your job will be to take the food and drinks out, and get the adults drinks orders. As well as tidying up after of course. On top of that you will have to run slight maintenance on the halls and kitchen equipment." This is bizarre, what about my interview?

"Is this my interview?" She looks at me before getting up. Shes about 5ft 5in. 3 inches smaller than me.

"Come with me." I follow her behind the desk and into the managers office. He's sat behind his desk and looks up, before resuming his work. "You're the only applicant. You'll be working as a waitress from 3-5pm. After that it's more cleaning and quick routine maintenance until 7pm. Then there's the tricky bit. You seem to have noticed the strangeness of all this. Now I can't tell you any more because I don't know the rest, but Delsin Jackson, the manager, does. So your 'interview' is more if an induction." She says, in a hurried, hushed tone

"Okay, Hannah, you can leave now." She nods and returns to her desk. "So you're Emilia Vixen." I nod. "Emilia, our animatronics are more advanced than they appear. They all have an AI chip, which stands for..."

"Artifical Intelligence. I know I did a robotics course at college and I could easily perform some basic repairs on all three of them." He looks at me.

"There's actually four." Before I can speak Delsin carries on. "But basic repairs would be appreciated. However because of a incident in 1987 the fourth one, Foxy, was retired as part of a court order. After this their behaviour changed and became erratic. Before that incident they were allowed to move around in the day, but they can now only 'free roam' after 12pm. Our security guard takes over from you at 11pm. I will warn you, they are extremely unpredictable, but once they begin to see you often enough, they will recognise you. You have a uniform, I'll just fetch it. A small should do it." He gets up and leaves the office, trying to take it all in. They must be desperate, but this is all extremely bizarre. I bet it has something to do with the history of this place, which is currently very vague. He comes back in with the uniform in his hand.

"You're going to need to change into it, the restrooms are just over there." He points out of the office and to a corridor beside the band. Right next to the creepy ass chicken. Great.

I walk out the office my uniform in my hand, dodging the children and wonky tables, my worn converse sticking to the floor. I get to the band, the creaking of their necks indicating they're looking at me. I keep facing forward and walk into the dimly lit corridor. I walk down to the door marked restrooms. I enter a cubicle, lock the door and out on the yellow shirt. Thank god I'm wearing a white bra. I take off my trousers and pick up, what I first presumed to be trousers, it's not. It's a blue pleated skirt, which comes to my mid thigh. I need a bigger shirt, this one is quite tight. I put my yellow converse back on and make my way back to the office, this time the animatronics don't respond. When I reach the desk, Hannah stops me.

"I need to give you this." I take the object out of her and and it's a blue and yellow name tag, with my name written on it. I go back into Delsin's office, and put the badge on, right where the pocket would be.

"Right then. You need to follow me." As he gets up from his desk, I notice his eyes wander over my body. There night be a few problems with my boss in the future, seeing as I work here now.

**AN- this is looong. The next bit is the tour. Yay! Thanks for all the great feedback. Really appreciate it. **

***its 2008 cause Foxy has been 'out of order' for 21 years. 1987 + 21=2008.**


End file.
